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With martial heat I seiz’d the Lyre,
And valiant heroes slain ;
Attempt the battle-strain.
“ To fill the soul with fond alarms,
The joys of love and wine,
To match one Ode of thine.
“ Let other bards, in martial verse
In numbers light and gay
Is sure to win the day.
“ Thy Prince demands his meed of praise, Attend-and thou shalt gain the Bays,
(The hungry Poet's pray’r,) For which harmonious Cibber burn'd, Which haughty Gray indignant spurn'd,
And Dryden blush'd to wear.”
Obedient then, I strike the Lyre-
And all ye rhyming host !
sudden dearth of news,
I never swept the tuneful string
Or what is more-create 'em :
Or Scandalum Magnatum.
Then, please your Highness, tell my muse
Wise, tender, or heroic ?
A statesman, or a stoic?
To do what many bards have done,
With compliments in plenty;
And call you one-and-twenty.
Hail, mighty Prince ! illustrious youth ! O listen to the voice of truth,
A voice to Monarchs strange; Your bright example mends the taste, Bear witness, many a slender waist
From Charing Cross to 'Change!
Augustan days are come, we hope,
And Milton keeps the rear;
Is distanc'd by a Peer.
See Arnold, with his Pye,* agree,
The Drama's rights to seize;
Which Shakespeare fails to please ?
Britannia! bless thy lucky star,
Sly Lancaster to teach,
And Huntingdon to preach.
My mind, as in a glass, surveys
To me, my Prince! display'd ;
And Phæbus is obey’d.
• The Prior Claim,” a comedy (?) written conjointly by Messrs. Pye (the Laureat) and Arnold.
TO DOCTOR BUSBY.
“ Bacchum in remotis carmina rupibus."
I saw (nor disbelieve my strain,)
In consequential trim,
Most ludicrously grim.
With gestures strange, and accent loud,
About the Drama's laws;
Stood up, and bray'd applause.
In vain he spoke-the Gallery Gods,
Sent forth a dismal yell;
With Proserpine to hell.