Poems upon Several Occasions/8

by George Granville

To the Immortal Memory of
Mr. Waller, upon his Death.

 

ALIKE partaking of Celestial Fire,
Poets and Heroes to Renown aspire,
Till crown’d with Honour, and immortal Name,⁠$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
By Wit, or Valour, led to equal Fame,
They mingle with the Gods, that breath’d the noble Flame:
Homer shall last, like Alexander, long,
As much recorded, and as often sung.

A Tree of Life is Sacred Poetry;
Sweet is the Fruit, and tempting to the Eye.
Many there are who nibble without Leave;
But none, who are not born to Taste, survive.
Waller shall never dye, of Life secure,
As long as Fame or aged Time endure:
Waller, the Muse’s Darling, free to taste
Of all their Stores, the Master of the Feast;

Not like old Adam stinted in his Choice,
But Lord of all the spacious Paradise.

Those Foes to Virtue, Fortune, and Mankind,
Favouring his Fame, once to do Justice join’d;
No carping Critick interrupts his Praise,
No Rival strives, but for a second Place:
No Want constrain’d, the Writer’s usual Fate,
A Poet, with a plentiful Estate;
The first of Mortals, who before the Tomb
Struck that pernicious Monster, Envy, dumb;
Malice and Pride, those Savages, disarm’d;
Not Orpheus with such pow’rful Magick charm’d.
Scarce in the Grave can we allow him more
Than, Living, we agreed to give before.

⁠His noble Muse employ’d her gen’rous Rage⁠$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
In crowning Virtue, scorning to engage
The Vice and Follies of an impious Age:
No Satyr lurks within this Hallow’d Ground,⁠$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
But Nymphs and Heroin’s, Kings and Gods abound,
Glory, and Arms, and Loves, is all the Sound:
His Eden with no Serpent is defil’d,
But all is gay, delicious all, and mild.

Mistaken Men his Muse of Flatt’ry blame,
Adorning twice an impious Tyrant’s Name:

We raise our own, by giving Fame to Foes;
The Valour that he prais'd he did oppose.

Nor were his Thoughts to Poetry confin'd,
The State and Business shar'd his ample Mind;
As all the Fair were Captives to his Wit,
So Senates to his Counsels would submit:
His Voice so soft, his Eloquence so strong,
Like Cato's was his Speech, like Ovid's was his Song.

Our British Kings are rais'd above the Herse,
Immortal made in his immortal Verse;
No more are Mars and Jove Poetick Themes,
But the Cælestial Charles and just James:
Juno and Pallas, all the shining Race
Of Heav'nly Beauties, to the Queen give Place;
Clear like her Brow, and graceful was his Song,
Great like her Mind, and like her Virtue strong.

Parent of Gods, who do'st to Gods remove,
Where art thou plac'd, and which thy Seat above?
Waller the God of Verse we will proclaim,
Not Phœbus now, but Waller be his Name;
Of joyful Bards the sweet Seraphick Quire
Acknowledge thee, their Oracle and Sire;
The Spheres do homage, and the Muses sing
Waller the God of Verse, who was the King.