The _Matter_ pure, immortal is the _Flame_. } No _Fool_, no _Debauchee_ could ever prove The _honest Luxury of Virtuous Love_; Then _curs'd_ are those who that _fair Name_ abuse, And holy _Hymen's_ sacred _Fillets_ loose; Who _poison Fountains_, and _infect_ the _Air_, _Ruine_ the _Witty_, and _debauch_ the _Fair_; With _nauseous Images_ their _Scenes_ debase 420 At once their Country's _Ruine_ and _Disgrace_. _Weigh_ well each _Thought_ if all be _Just_ and _Right_, For those must clearly _think_ who clearly _write_. Nothing _obscure_, _equivocal_, or _mean_, Much less what is or _impious_ or _obscene_: Altho the tempting _Serpent_ play his part, And wind in _glitt'ring Folds_ around thy _Heart_; Reject the _trait'rous Charmer_, tear him thence, And keep thy _Vertue_ and thy _Innocence_. [Sidenote: _The Manchinel, or Eves Apple_.] In wild _America's_ rank _Champaign_ grows 430 A _Tree_ which _Europe_ oft too dearly knows; It rises high in _cool inchanting Groves_, Whose green broad Leaves the fainting _Trav'ler_ loves; _Fair_ is the treach'rous _Fruit_, and charms your _Eye_, But ah! beware! for if you _taste_ you _die_. Too well alas! it _thrives_ when _planted_ here, Its deadly Branches shade our _Theatre_. Of _Mesures, Numbers, Pauses_ next I sing, And rest the breathless _Muse_ with cautious _Wing_: Of _Embryo Thoughts_, unripen'd yet by Time, 440 The Rules of _Verse_, of _Quantity_ and _Rhime_: With trembling Steps through _Shades_ unknown I stray, And mark a _rugged_ and a _dubious_ way; Yet some small _glimm'ring Light_ will hence be show'd, And future _Trav'lers_ may enlarge the _Road_. [Sidenote: _Measure_.] Of CHAUCER'S Verse we scarce the _Measures_ know, So _rough_ the _Lines_, and so _unequal_ flow; Whether by Injury of _Time_ defac'd, Or _careless_ at the _first_, and writ in _haste_; Or _coursly_, like old _Ennius_, he _design'd_ 450 What After-days have _polish'd_ and _refin'd_. SPENCER more _smooth_ and _neat_, and none than He Could better skill of _English Quantity_; Tho by his _Stanza_ cramp'd, his _Rhimes_ less chast, And _antique Words_ affected all disgrac'd; Yet _vast_ his _Genius, noble_ were his _Thoughts_, Whence equal Readers wink at _lesser_ Faults. From _France_ their _Alexandrins_ we receive Which more of _Liberty_ and _Compass_ give; Hence by our dull Translators were they us'd, 460 Nor CHAPMAN nor old STERNHOLD these refus'd; They borrow from _Hexameters_ their _Feet_, Which with _Asclepiads_ and _Iambicks_ meet; Yet in the midst we still a _Weakness_ see, Their _Music_ gives us no _Variety_. More _num'rous_ the _Pentameter_ and _strong_, Which to our _Saxon Fathers_ did belong.