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Likeness appears in every lineament;
But poets are confin’d in narrower space,
hold of none.
Sure fome propitious planet then did smile,
your good stars are every where the fame. Thy matchless hand, of every region free, Adopts our climate, not our climate thee.
Great Rome and Venice early did impart To thee th' examples of their wondrous art.. Those masters then, but feen, not understood, With
generous emulation fir'd thy blood : For what in nature's dawn the child admir'd, The youth endeavour'd, and the man acquir’d.
If yet thou hast not reach'd their high degree,
But we, who life bestow, ourselves must live:
the taxes, bear the rule:
Good heaven! that fots and knaves should be so vain, To wish their vile resemblance
remain! And stand recorded, at their own request, To future days, a libel or a jeft!
Else should we see your noble pencil trace
More cannot be by mortal art exprest;
For time shall with his ready pencil stand;
your colours, and imbrown the teint;
fame convey, And give more beauties than he takes away.
E LE GI E S
A N D
Ε Ρ Ι Τ Α Ρ Η S.
TO THE MEMORY OF MR, OLDHAM.
FAREWELL, too little and too lately known,
Whom I began to think, and call my own: For sure our souls were near allied, and thine Caft in the same poetic mould with mine. One common note on either lyre did strike, And knaves and fools we both abhorr'd alike. To the same goal did both our studies drive'; The last set out, the soonest did arrive. Thus Nisus fell upon the flippery place, Whilst his young friend perform’d, and won the race. O early ripe! to thy abundant store What could advancing age have added more? It might (what nature never gives the young) Have taught the smoothness of thy native tongue. But fatire needs not those, and wit will shine Through the harsh cadence of a rugged line. A noble error, and but seldom made, When poets are by too much force betray'd,
Thy generous fruits, though gather'd ere their prime,
Made in the last promotion of the bleft;
Or, in proceffion fix'd and regular,
Or, callid to more superior bliss,