THOU child of nature, genius strong Thou master of the poet's song, Before whose light, Art's dim and feeble Forfake not thou the vocal choir, Their breasts revifit with thy genial fire, Elfe vain the ftudied founds of mimic art, Tickle the ear, but come not near the hea Vain every phrase in curious order fet, On each fide leaning on the [ftop-gap] ep Vain the quick rhyme ftill tinkling in the While pure defcription fhines in meafur'd Thou bear'ft aloof, and look'ft with high difdain, Whose nervelefs ftrains flag on in languid tone, No longer now thy altars blaze, No poet offers up his lays; Infpir'd with energy divine, To worship at thy facred fhrine. Since tafte* with abfolute domain, Extending wide her leaden reign, Kills with her melancholy fhade, The blooming scyons of fair fancy's tree; Which erft full wantonly have ftray'd In many a wreath of richest poefie. For when the oak denies her ftay, The creeping ivy winds her humble way; No more fhe twists her branches round, But drags her feeble ftem along the barren ground. Where then shall exil'd genius go? Whofe fober rhymes in even tenour flow; * By Tafte, is here meant the modern affectation of it. Who Why fleep the fons of genius now? Why, Wartons, refts the lyre unftrung *And thou, bleft bard! around whofe facr Great Pindar's delegated wreath is hung: Arife, and snatch the majefty of song From dullness' fervile tribe, and art's un) throng. Dr. Akenfide. PROLOGUS, 1757. EST Schola Rhetorices, celebrat quam crebra juventus, Et tumido inflatos ejicit ore fonos. Quà quifque affumit tragicas novus hiftrio partes, Ingre |