ODE on SOLITUDE'. APPY the man, whofe wifh and care HAR A few paternal acres bound, Content to breathe his native air, In his own ground. Whofe herds with milk, whofe fields with bread, Bleft, who can unconcern'dly find Sound fleep by night; ftudy and ease, Thus let me live, unfeen, unknown, Thus unlamented let me die, Steal from the world, and not a stone Tell where I lie. 10 15 20 b This was a very early production of our Author, written at about twelve years old. The dying Chriftian to his SouL. O D E. I. VITAL fpark of heav'nly flame! E. Quit, oh quit this mortal frame : II. Hark! they whifper; Angels fay, Drowns my fpirits, draws my breath? III. The world recedes; it difappears! 5. Heav'n opens on my eyes! my ears With founds feraphic ring: 15 Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy Victory? O Death! where is thy Sting? CONTENTS OF THE That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Ge- That most men are born with some Taste, but spoil d by falfe Education, ver. 19 to 25. The multitude of Critics, and caufes of them, ver. 26 to 45- That we are to ftudy our own Tafte, and know the Limits Nature the best guide of judgment, ver. 68 to 87. Improved by Art and Rules, which are but methodized Rules derived from the practice of the Ancient Poets, That therefore the Ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil, ver. 120. Of Licenfes, and the use of them by the Ancients, ver. |