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Or add one patriot to a sinking state;
XV. FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED
IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY."
ANOTHER, ON THE SAME. UNDER this marble, or under this sill, Or under this turf, or een what they will; Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead, Or any good creature shall lay o'er my head, Lies one who ne'er cared, and still cares not a pin What they say, or may say of the mortal within: But, who living and dying, serene still and free, Trusts in God, that as well as he was, he shall be.
LORD CONINGSBY'S EPITAPH.
1 Now on Pope's monument in Twickenham church.
2 This epitaph, originally written on Picus Mirandula, was printed among the works of Swift. See Hawkes worth's edition, vol. iv.
Pope, in one of the prints from Scheemaker's monument of Shake
ON BUTLER’S MONUMENT.
PERHAPS BY POPE. Respect to Dryden, Sheffield justly paid, And noble Villiers honour'd Cowley's shade: But whence this Barber?—that a name so mean Should, join'd with Butler's, on a tomb be seen: This pyramid would better far proclaim, To future ages humbler Settle's name: Poet and patron then had been well pair'd, The city printer, and the city bard.
speare in Westminster Abbey, has shewn his contempt of Alderman Barber, by the following couplet, which is substituted in the place of the cloud capt towers, &c.'
• Thus Britain loved me: and preserved my fame,
Pope might probably have suppressed his satire on the alderman, because he was one of Swift's acquaintances and correspondents: though in the fourth book of the Dunciad he has an anonymous stroke at him:
So by each bard an alderman shall sit,
ODE ON ST. CECILIA’S DAY.
DESCEND, ye Nine! descend and sing:
And sweep the sounding lyre!
Let the loud trumpet sound,
The shrill echoes rebound:
Hark! the numbers soft and clear,
And fill with spreading sounds the skies; Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes, In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats, Till, by degrees, remote and small,
The strains decay,
And melt away,
Nor swell too high, nor sink too low.
Or, when the soul is pressed with cares,
Exalts her in enlivening airs.
Melancholy lifts her head, Morpheus rouses from his bed, Sloth unfolds her arms and wakes,
Listening Envy drops her snakes ; Intestine war no more our passions wage, And giddy factions hear away their rage.
But when our country's cause provokes to arms, .
While Argo saw her kindred trees
Transported demi-gods stood round,
Inflamed with glory's charms:
1 Dr. Greene set this ode to music in 1730, as an exercise for his doctor's degree at Cambridge, on which occasion Pope added the following stanza at line 35.
Amphion thus bade wild dissension cease,
and he made another alteration at the same time, in stanza 4, v. 51, and wrote it thus:
Sad Orpheus sought his consort lost;
Around the dreary coast;
But dreadful gleams, &c.-- Warton. 2 The Argo in which Jason and the Argonauts sailed to Colchis in search of the Golden Fleece.
4 Few images in any poet, ancient or modern, are more striking than that in Apollonius, where he says, that when the Argo was sailing near the coast where the centaur Chiron dwelt, he came down to the very margin of the sea, bringing his wife with the young Achilles in her arms, that he might show the child to his father Peleus. wbo was on his voyage with the other Argonauts. Apollonius Rhodias. Lib. 1.- Warton,
But when through all th' infernal bounds,
To the pale nations of the dead, :
See, shady forms advance!
And the pale spectres dance!
By the streams that ever flow,
O’er th' Elysian flowers;
Or Amaranthine bowers;
1 Phlegethon, a river of Tartarus.
2 See the “ Divine Legation," Book 2, where Orpheus is considered as a philosopher, a legislator, and a mystic.- Warton.
3 The fable is that Orpheus, led by “Love strong as death,” descended to Tartarus to beg that the Infernal God and Goddess would permit his dead wife, Eurydice (who had died of snake bite) to return to earth with him. Won by his divine music they assented, on condition that he did not turn round to look at her till they reached the upper air. But alas! in his tender im patience, Orpheus cast a glance back, and she was instantly borne away. Very ancient hymns, ascribed to Orpheus (but not his), remain, Warton tells us, “certainly older than the expedition of Xerxes against Greece."
Sisyphus was doomed to roll a huge stone up to a hill-top of Tartarus, but when the summit was nearly gained it invariably fell back headlong to the plain; thus his efforts were always in vain.
6 lxion was fastened to a wheel which incessantly revolved.