Else should we see your noble pencil trace Our unities of action, time, and place: A whole composed of parts, and those the best, With every various character express'd; Heroes at large, and at a nearer view, Less, and at distance, an ignobler crew. While all the figures in one action join, As tending to complete the main design. More cannot be by mortal art express'd; But venerable age shall add the rest: 160 For time shall with his ready pencil stand; Retouch your fingers with his ripening hand; Mellow your colours, and embrown the tint; Add every grace, which time alone can grant; To future ages shall your fame convey, And give more beauties than he takes away. * * * * * FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 32: Supposed to be an acknowledgment of a copy of the Chandos portrait of Shakspeare given to Dryden by Kneller.] * * * * * EPISTLE XV. TO HIS FRIEND THE AUTHOR, JOHN HODDESDON, ON HIS DIVINE EPIGRAMS. Thou hast inspired me with thy soul, and I Who ne'er before could ken of poetry, Am grown so good proficient, I can lend A line in commendation of my friend. Yet 'tis but of the second hand; if ought There be in this, 'tis from thy fancy brought. Good thief, who dar'st, Prometheus-like, aspire, And fill thy poems with celestial fire: Enliven'd by these sparks divine, their rays Add a bright lustre to thy crown of bays. 10 Young eaglet, who thy nest thus soon forsook, So lofty and divine a course hast took As all admire, before the down begin To peep, as yet, upon thy smoother chin; And, making heaven thy aim, hast had the grace To look the Sun of righteousness i' the face. What may we hope, if thou go'st on thus fast, Scriptures at first; enthusiasms at last! Thou hast commenced, betimes, a saint; go on, Mingling diviner streams with Helicon; 20 That they who view what epigrams here be, May learn to make like, in just praise of thee. Reader, I've done, nor longer will withhold Thy greedy eyes; looking on this pure gold Thou'lt know adulterate copper, which, like this, Will only serve to be a foil to his. * * * * * EPISTLE XVI. TO MY FRIEND MR J. NORTHLEIGH, AUTHOR OF "THE PARALLEL," ON HIS "TRIUMPH OF THE BRITISH MONARCHY."