an irreparable loſs to the polite world, and his memory will be ever dear to thoſe, who have any reliſh for the muſes in their ſofter charms. Some of the latter part of his life was employed in collecting materials for an Hiſtory of the Tranſactions of his own Times, but his death unfortunately deprived the world of what the touches of ſo maſterly a hand, would have made exceeding valuable.
Mr. Prior, by the ſuffrage of all men of taſte, holds the firſt rank in poetry, for the delicacy of his numbers, the wittineſs of his turns, the acuteneſs of his remarks, and, in one performance, for the amazing force of his ſentiments. The ſtile of our author is likewiſe ſo pure, that our language knows no higher authority, and there is an air of original in his minuteſt performances.
It would be ſuperfluous to give any detail of his poems, they are in the hands of all who love poetry, and have been as often admired, as read. The performance however, for which he is moſt diſtinguiſhed, is his Solomon; a Poem in three Books, the firſt on Knowledge, the ſecond on Pleaſure, and the third on Power. We know few poems to which this is ſecond, and it juſtly eſtabliſhed his reputation as one of the beſt writers of his age.
This ſublime work begins thus,
Ye ſons of men, with juſt regard attend,
Obſerve the preacher, and believe the friend,
Whoſe ſerious muſe inſpires him to explain,
That all we act, and all we think is vain:
That in this pilgrimage of ſeventy years,
O’er rocks of perils, and thro’ vales of tears
Deſtin’d to march, our doubtful ſteps we tend,
Tir’d of the toil, yet fearful of its end:
