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WHEN e'er Great VIRGIL's lofty Verse I see,
The Pompous Scene Charms my admiring Eye:
There different Beauties in perfection meet;
The Thoughts as proper, as the Numbers sweet:
And when wild Fancy mounts a daring height,
Judgment steps in, and moderates her Flight.
Wisely he manages his Wealthy Store,
Still says enough, and yet implies still more:
For tho' the weighty Sense be closely wrought,
The Reader's left t'improve the pleasing Thought.
Hence we despair'd to see an English dress
Should e'er his Nervous Energy express;
For who could that in fetter'd Rhyme inclose,
Which without loss can scarce be told in Prose?
But you, Great Sir, his Manly Genius raise;
And make your Copy share an equal praise.
O how I see thee in soft Scenes of Love,
Renew those Passions he alone could move!
Here Cupid's Charms are with new Art exprest,
And pale Eliza leaves her peaceful rest:
Leaves her Elizium, as if glad to live,
To Love, and Wish, to Sigh, Despair and Grieve,
And die again for him that would again deceive.
