With sense of human miseries expressed; Relenting pity in each face appears, And heavy sorrow ripens into tears. Grief is forbid; and see! in every eye The gaiety of love, and wanton joy! Soft smiles and airs, which tenderly inspire Delightful hope, and languishing desire. But lo! the pealing verse provokes around The frown of rage, and kindles with the sound; Behold the low’ring storm at once arise, And ardent vengeance sparkling in their eyes; Fury boils high, and zeal of fell debate, Demanding ruin, and denouncing fate. Ye British beauties, in whose finished face Smile the gay honours of each bloomy grace; Whose forms, inimitably fair, invite The sighing heart, and cheer the ravished sight, Say, what sweet transports, and complacent joy, Rise in your bosoms, and your soul employ, When royal Emily, the tuneful bard Paints in his song, and makes the rich reward Of knightly arms, in costly lists arrayed, The world at once contending for the maid. How nobly great does Sigismonda shine, With constant faith, and courage masculine! No menaces could bend her mind to fear, But for her love she dies without a tear. There Iphigenia, with her radiant eyes, As the bright sun, illuminates the skies; In clouded Cymon chearful day began, Awaked the sleeping soul, and charmed him into man. The pleasing legends, to your honour, prove The power of beauty, and the force of love. Who, after him, can equally rehearse Such various subjects, in such various verse? And with the raptures of his strain controul, At will, each passion, and command the soul? Not ancient Orpheus, whose surprising lyre Did beasts, and rocks, and rooted woods, inspire, More sweetly sung, nor with superior art Soothed the sad shades, and softened Pluto’s heart. All owned, at distance, his distinguished name, Nor vainly vied to share his awful fame; Unrivalled, living, he enlarged his praise, And, dying, left without an heir his bays. So Philip’s son his universal reign Extended amply over earth and main; Through conquered climes with ready triumph rode, And ruled the nations with his powerful nod; But when fate called the mighty chief away, None could succeed to his imperial sway, And his wide empire languished to decay. No. IX. AN ODE BY WAY OF ELEGY, ON THE UNIVERSALLY LAMENTED DEATH OF THE INCOMPARABLE MR DRYDEN. _Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus Tam chari capitis? Precipe lugubres Cantus Melpomene---- Quando ullam inveniam parem! Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit._ HORAT. Lib. i. Ode 25. By ALEXANDER OLDYS. TO MY WORTHY FRIEND MR JAMES DIXON. SIR, _1700, 22d June._