Poets, your subjects, have their parts assigned, To unbend, and to divert their sovereign's mind; When tired with following nature, you think fit To seek repose in the cool shades of wit, And, from the sweet retreat, with joy survey What rests, and what is conquered, of the way. Here, free yourselves from envy, care, and strife, You view the various turns of human life; Safe in our scene, through dangerous courts you go, And, undebauched, the vice of cities know. Your theories are here to practice brought, As in mechanic operations wrought; And man, the little world, before you set, As once the sphere of crystal[341] shewed the great. Blest sure are you above all mortal kind, If to your fortunes you can suit your mind; Content to see, and shun, those ills we show, And crimes on theatres alone to know. With joy we bring what our dead authors writ, And beg from you the value of their wit: That Shakespeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's claim, May be renewed from those who gave them fame. None of our living poets dare appear; For muses so severe are worshipped here, That, conscious of their faults, they shun the eye, } And, as profane, from sacred places fly, } Rather than see the offended God, and die. } We bring no imperfections, but our own; Such faults as made are by the makers shown; And you have been so kind, that we may boast, The greatest judges still can pardon most. Poets must stoop, when they would please our pit, Debased even to the level of their wit; Disdaining that, which yet they know will take, Hating themselves what their applause must make. But when to praise from you they would aspire, Though they, like eagles, mount, your Jove is higher. So far your knowledge all their power transcends, As what should be, beyond what is, extends. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 341: Its properties are thus described by Spenser: It vertue had to show in perfect sight Whatever thing was in the world contained, Betwixt the lowest earth and heaven's height, So that it to the looker appertained. Whatever foe had wrought, or friend designed, Therein discovered was ne ought mote pass, Ne ought in secret from the same remained, Forthy it round, and hollow-shaped was, Like to the world itself, and seemed a world of glass. Such was the glassy globe that Merlin made, And gave unto King Ryence for his guard. _Fairy Queen_, Book iii. Canto 2. ] EPILOGUE SPOKEN AT OXFORD, BY MRS MARSHALL. _The date of this Epilogue is fixed by that of Bathurst's vice-chancellorship_, _which lasted from 3d October_, 1673, _to 9th October_ 1675.